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TO THE 



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RKODE-ISLAND SOCIETY 



FOR THE EXCOURAGEMENT OF 






Delivered at Pawtuxel, October 16lb, 1822. 

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BY THE HON. ASHER ROBBINS. 






PROVIDENCE : 
MILLER & HUTCHENS, PRINTERS. 
1822. 



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Pawtuxet, October 17, 1822. 
Sir, 
We have the honour, in behalf of the Society for the Encourage- 
ment of Domestick Industry, to return you their thanks, for the excel- 
lent Atkiress delivered by you, yesterday, before the Society : And to 
request a copy for the Press. 

We are, with sentiments 

of the highest respect, 

WILLIAM WILKINSON, ) 
S. T. NORTHAM, } CommilUc. 

WM. E. RICHMOND, ) 
Honourable Asher Robbius. 



Pawtuxet, October 17, 1822. 
Gentlemen, 

In compliance "with the request, contained in yonr polite communi- 
cation of this date, I have the honour to furnish herewith, a copy of th* 
Address referred to. 

With sentiments of perfect esteem, 

I am, gentlemen, your obedient servant, 

ASHER ROBBINS. 
William Wilkinson, S. T. Northam and William E P^ichmond, Esq's. 
Committee in behalf of the Society for the Encouragement of Do- 
mestick Industry. 



ABBIBS^i. 



It is pleasing to witness the spirit of agricultural 
enterprize and improvement rising in every part 
ol our country. This spirit, if not now universal, is 
rapidly becoming so. We see it breaking out eve- 
ry where — in the middle States, in the northern, 
in the southern, in the western ; and like the kind- 
ling fire, we see it gathering strength as it rises and 
spreads. Who does not see in this rising spirit a 
subject of national felicitation.'^ Perhaps the great- 
est this country ever had ; certainly greater than 
any other country ever had. Was even the spirit 
of Uberty itself, which produced the Revolution, 
and gave us our independence, more a subject of 
national congratulation ? That indeed was a glo- 
rious spirit, and its fruit was glory, as well as in- 
dependence. But who can estimate the value of 
this new-born spirit which now animates our coun- 
try, when we consider our great and rapidly in- 
creasing population, their characteristick ardour in 
every lucrative pursuit, their acuteness in dis- 
covering, sagacity in improving, and dexterity in 
applying, the means best fitted to accomplish their 
ends, and their boldness in enterprize ; but above 
all, that boundless scope which our country af- 
fords, for the range of this spirit; and all this, un- 
der the most favourable political auspices, that 
any country ever was blessed with.^ Here the soil 
is the people's ; the government is the people's ; 
every thing is tlieir own ; every acquisition is se- 
cure ; every acquisition belongs to the acquire f ; 
he is in no danger of losing it by the rapacious 



hand of external violence ; nor by the no less rapa- 
cious hand of internal oppression ; he sits under the 
shade of his self-regulated and protected freedom 
with none to make him afraid : advantages in the 
aggregate that never before attended any people 
on earth. I say, when we consider all these things, 
who can estimate the value of this spirit, which 
is now kindled and kindling, every where through- 
out our country, in this great pursuit ? Should it be 
aided by that system of political economy which 
our circumstances point out, and recommend to 
us ; which let us hope will be the case, though 
as yet it does not seem to have been sufficiently 
studied or understood, by the majority of those 
who have had the lead in our aflfairs ; it will give 
in time, and no distant time, the most astonishing 
results. Should we now anticipate these results, 
and state them, the picture of our country, as it 
would then appear, would seem to many like the 
visions of poetry; but it would be no fancy pic- 
ture, it would be a true description ; it would be 
what will be realized to us by the genius of agri- 
culture whenever it becomes that of our country. 
And let us hope she is about to make this country 
her favorite abode ; that here is to be her temple 
and her altar ; (never was a genius more deserv- 
ing of both, never was a people more worthy to 
be her worshippers,) that our land is to be filled 
with the monuments of her wonder-working power; 
that some future Virgil will celebrate her praises 
in his immortal strains ; will record that of all the 
lands beneath the sun, this was her chosen seat ; 
will sing, 

" Hie illius arma ; 
" Hie currus fuit : 

That she will here pour forth her streams of wealth, 
like rivers of gold from her sources, that can never 
fail, but will for ever increase ; that by these 
streams she will lead us to the glory, not of arms. 



but of arts ; and fill our country with their trophies, 
and their monuments ; that then standing on the 
heights of ourAUeghanies, she will send her glances 
from the shores of the Atlantick ocean to those 
of the Pacifick ; from the lakes, and the St. Law- 
rence in the north, to the gulph of our own Flori- 
das, and the borders of the Tropick and behold 
one universal scene displayed of her peaceful tri- 
umphs. But 

" Thro' states utinumbered tho' this power be known, 
" 'Tis ours to hail her, only in our own." 

Here we have every thing to invite to enterprize 
and encourage hope — the great and growing mar- 
ket afforded by our commerce and our manufac- 
tures ; the vicinity of all our lands to this market ; 
the natural fertihty of much of our soil; the great 
improvements which it all admits of, and the abun- 
dant means we have of making them; but above 
all, that great capital at command, and ready to be 
employed, as the profits of its employment in this 
channel shall become better and better under- 
stood. Yes, we may confidently hope that our 
little State, though among the smallest of the tribes 
of our land, as she now, relatively to her extent 
and population, takes the lead of all the States, in 
the two great branches of industry — commerce and 
manufactures ; so she will soon take the same rela- 
tive lead in this branch — that as we now talk of our 
eminent and successful merchants, our great and 
flourishing manufactures, we shall soon have 
wherewith to boast of our opulent farmers and 
prosperous agriculture. Then, with a wealthy 
community in all its classes, we shall no longer 
lament the want of common resources for the sup- 
port of those establishments, which impart know- 
ledge and diffuse refinement ; which secure rights, 
and connect them with the feelingof security; which 
nourish the virtues, and teach the graces that 
adorn them ; which throw over the surface of life 



its charm and embellishment, and make it at once 
splendid and happj. Nor do I think I am too 
sanguine in this hope, when I look around upon 
the number of our eminent citizens turning their 
minds to this object ; when I recollect their intel- 
ligence, their means, their ardency of pursuit, the 
great things they may accomplish themselves, 
the still greater they may effect by the influence of 
their example. Particularly, when it is found to be 
a certain road to riches, as undoubtedly it may be 
made. Yes, my fellow-citizens, here lies a mine of 
wealth that has been overlooked and neglected, 
that never has been wrought by us, though it may 
be to great profit ; not lying hid in the depths of 
the earth, but richer than any buried there ; 
lying at its surface, more inviting to adventure, 
and more promising in its results. The till late 
common notion that agriculture could not be made 
a profitable business, at least comparatively so to 
other branches of industry, is fast wearing away. 
It is descending to the tomb of departed errours ; 
for undoubtedly it is an erroneous notion. It is 
born of ignorance, and will die with its mother ; 
and die, 1 hope, soon, and mother and offspring be 
buried in the same grave, for it has been a most 
pernicious errour to the interests of agriculture. 
It has kept it in a state of degraded and degrading 
neglect. Its inlluence has diverted talent and sci- 
ence and capital and enterprize to other pursuits. 
How different have been the fortunes of the arts 
of manufacture ? What obligations for instance 
they owe to science ? Its discoveries have been 
applied to aid, to improve, and to perfect them. 
The most powerful minds are employed in inventing 
the means of facilitating their operations ; they 
draw to them capital in abundance ; where one can 
not furnish it, numbers join for the purpose ; every 
new improvement of every place is eagerly sought 
after, in every place adopted ; every thing that pro- 



mises to be an improvement is readily tried — they 
have prospered — they have made returns accord- 
ingly. And commerce too, how eagerly it is em- 
braced, and every channel of it pursued ? In both, 
property is rapidly accumulated and large fortunes 
acquired. And it is this success that tends to con- 
firm the pernicious errour alluded to, for these 
results are not witnessed in agriculture. 

This errour further tends to conrirm itself It first 
induces the neglect of agriculture, and then that 
nefflecl induces the failure of the business. It be- 
gins in falsehood, but ends m tact, by its own mis- 
chievous operation. But it is time to expose the 
periiicious errour, and to have it finally exploded. 

Capital in agriculture may be employed in a 
two-fold manner, in the purchase of land or in im- 
provements upon it. Money invested in lands ei- 
ther for rent or occupation, though secure, is not 
at present profitable ; it is less so than money at 
six per cent, interest. But laid out in improve- 
ments, it is profitable ; more so than Banks, and 
equally so with commerce and manufactures. The 
whole of the capital of agriculture, or nearly the 
whole, with us, is invested in the land ; very little is 
applied to improvements. The accumulations from 
rent or occupation go to the purchase of more land, 
or go to loans on interest ; or go to some other 
braiich of business. So little goes to improvements, 
that very few farms hold tJieir own ; the greater 
part deteriorate, and their little profit is yearly be- 
coming less. There arc some exceptions, but this is 
the general state of our agriculture. Hence it is 
that this business is unprofitable ; and it is impos- 
sible on this system that it should be otherwise. 
The reason is, that the wages of labour absorb so 
much of the proceeds of the produce, that very lit- 
tle is left as a surplus ; the gain consequently is ve- 
ry gradual, and the accumulation rever great. If 
the cost of production equal the value of the pro- 



(luce, there is no profit at all, for it is the excess of 
the value bejond the cost that is the measure of 
the profit ; and the poorer the state of the land is, 
the more nearly are these necessarily balanced. — 
The cost of cultivation is the same or nearly so, whe- 
ther the soil be productive or unproductive. Hence, 
as the productiveness decreases, the profits de- 
crease, till they become nothing — till the business 
becomes a losing business. We see the cause 
then, why our present agriculture is unprofitable; 
and that this cause must continue to have this effect 
whilst this system continues. It is thus that a 
branch of business which might have been made 
a great source of publick and private wealth, has, 
by a wrong system of management, been found un- 
productive; considered as an unpromising business, 
and neglected for other pursuits. 

The great drawback upon agriculture is the 
wages of labour. The high rate of wages is the gen- 
eral complaint, and the general argument against 
the pursuit. Now it is precisely upon this point 
that capital in improvements operates its benefit. 
It enlarges the diflerence between the value of the 
produce and the cost of production, particularly in 
the article of labour. And this difference by means 
of improvements, may be made so great, as to make 
this objection, founded upon the dearness of labour, 
entirely vanish. 

Numerous are the objects of improvements, and 
abundant the means of making them; and there is 
not one of them on which capital may not be profit- 
ably employed, and very profitably. Combine the 
cost of the land with the cost of these improve- 
ments; consider both as a joint capital; still the 
profit will be very great. Then for those who have 
already capital, invested in land, to withhold capi- 
tal from improvements, is to render their invested 
capital, poor stock; and to keep it so — is to refuse 
a further employment of capital, which by itself 



9 

would be extremely advantageous ; and by its con- 
nexion with that already imested, would make 
both so. Nothing can be more injudicious, upon 
calculations of pecuniary interest. 

It' the farmer were to employ his profits in im- 
provements, he would find the profit arising from 
his profits, beyond comparison greater, than upon 
the present plan of loaning his profits upon interest, 
or in other branches of business. Money, in im- 
provements, is money at great interest, and at com- 
pound interest. Upon this principle it is, that for- 
tunes are accumulated in trade and manufactures. 
Profits become capital ; new^ capital produces new 
profits, and in this way, if the business prosper, the 
mass of capital is continually increasing, and a for- 
tune is the result. It is upon this principle that for- 
tunes have been acquired in agriculture, wherever 
they have been acquired; and where the true prin- 
ciple has been acted upon, and in proportion as it 
has been acted upon, has property been acquired by 
it. In England it is not uncommon for a farmer to 
retire upon a fortune acquired by farming. It is 
true the business there has some advantages over 
us in the cheapness of labour, and in markets ; but 
then these are offset by disadvantages, that out- 
weigh them, and leave the balance in our favour. 
Indeed nothing displays so strikingly the prolifick 
energy of this principle of employing capital in 
improvements, as the successful agriculture of Eng- 
land against the enormous taxes it has had to 
contend w ith. 

But I may be asked, why do you not give the 
demonstration, by giving particular statements ; by 
specifying the improvements to be made, and the 
means of making them; and by comparing the re- 
sults with the costs ? This, doubtless, would be the 
proper way, on a proper occasion; but the present 
will not admit of it. A partial enumeration, or a 
summary statement would not do justice to the ar- 



10 

gument — would not impart that light, and carry 
that conviction, which a complete enumeration, and 
a full development of each particular could not 
fail to produce. And this would be matter for a 
practical treatise and would fill a volume. But 
can volumes be necessary — need any more be said 
to dissipate an erroneous opinion, which every 
one must see has been founded on what agricul- 
ture has been, not on what it may be ? 

There is, also, a certain prejudice, which it is 
desirable should be removed, as it operates inju- 
riously to the interests of agriculture. It is some- 
thing akin to the erroneous opinion we have been 
combatting, but affects a different class of men. It 
is the prejudice against the science of agriculture, 
against book-farming, as it is sometimes contemptu- 
ously called. This is felt more or less, if not avow- 
ed, by the great body of our practical farmers. It is 
to be hoped, that this, too, is wearing out, and will 
soon cease to be felt at all. They conceive that 
farming is a business of experience and skill : so 
far they are right — that agriculture must adapt it- 
self to the situation, and will be, and ought to be 
different in different countries : here too, there is 
no quarrel with them. But when they go further, 
and suppose that no instruction is to be gathered 
from the experience and skill of other countries, 
no useful lights to be gained from books, no ad- 
vantages to be reaped from understanding the the- 
ory of those results to which their business, me- 
chanically, conducts them ; here they deceive 
themselves, and, in a matter, in which they, of all 
men, are most directly, and deeply interested. Let 
them reffect,that though productions vary, with sit- 
uation, and modes of culture with production, yet 
that principles are, every where the same; that 
Nature is the great efficient power, in all the ope- 
rations of husbandry ; that she acts upon her own 
principles of agency ; that the business of science 



11 

is to discover, and teach her principles, and of art, 
to apply the means of assisting her operations ; 
that a knowledge of these principles is usclul to 
a discovery of these means ; and that a full discov- 
ery of all such means can only be expected from 
this knowledge. Let them retlect further, that ex- 
perience is. and has been, the teacher of others 
too, all over the earth, in all its ages, and that her 
lessons are not confined to them ; that she has sug- 
gested different means, to the same ends, in differ- 
ent places ; and that it is presumptuous, and too 
much to believe, that she has taught us here, the 
very best of these means, and left us nothingto learn. 
Let them reilect,again,that all their farming-knowl- 
edge, valuable as it is, was once theory, and ex- 
isted only in speculation; that it became practi- 
cal from experiment, and is now familiar from tradi- 
tionary experience; sothat their prcjudiceis against 
the means by which their present knowledge was 
originally acquired, and operates to proscribe all 
future improvement, from the same fruitful source. 
Let me not be misunderstood. I do not blame 
the farmer, for his unwillingness to leave the beaten 
track of his own experience, and venture on new, 
and untried enterprizes — upon processes which 
he has neither verified by experiments of his own, 
nor seen verified, by those of others; which must 
be attended with expense, and may be followed 
by disappointment. This cautious spirit, ready 
to improve, but prudent of expense, is commend- 
able in him. This is not the prejudice I complain 
of — far from it. It is the farmer, I blame, who turns 
a deaf, or incredulous ear to all instruction ; who 
condemns new things because they are new; who 
dislikes to see them attempted, and likes to see 
them fail ; who deride? the innovation, as a project, 
and the innovator as a projector; who keeps him- 
self aloof, and warns others, from the specious, 
but dansjerous noveltv. 



12 

Project and projector ! These are terms of de- 
rision, and the cfHilempt of the things gives point 
to the ridicide. But is this extreme contempt ju- 
dicious? If tSie projector fail, he hurts no one but 
himself. If he succeed, he benefits society, but he 
seldom benefits himself Hard is the fortune of the 
poor projector; — certainty of disgrace is one event, 
and in the other no certainty of reward ! Yet what 
obligations the world is under to him ! Evei'y use- 
^ ful invention among mankind was originally a pro- 
ject — even the plough was so. So was the draught 
of the plough by tlie horse and the ox. AY hat pro- 
ject ever appeared wilder, when it was lirst pro- 
posed, than that of catching a wild animal, in the 
wilderness, and training him to the draught of the 
plough ? Yet the bull and the horse once were such 
wild animals. And this project, so visionary as it 
then seemed, resulted in accomplishing the iirst 
great revolution, in the progress of man, from bar- 
barism to a state of civilization and refinement. 

What future obligations the world is yet to owe 
to the projector, is unknown, but doubtless they 
are very great, particularly in this department of 
human industry. Probably agriculture may be 
considered as yet in its cradle, comparing what 
it now is, with what it may become : so little is 
known of principles and means, compared with 
what may be known of both. 

Our present knovvledge of agriculture,is a knowl- 
edge of effects, rather than ol" causes. Observa- 
tion of effects often leads to conclusions which lead 
to new trials, and new results of great importance. 
But it is reasonable to believe, that the greatest im- 
provements arc yet to be made, by a knowledge 
of causes, yet to be acquired. This is the kind of 
knowledge which is power ; which gives to man 
his control over Nature, and makes her subservient 
to his purposes. Here, then, let science direct her 
researches ! Never was a field before her niore in- 



13 

vlting, to the ambition of new discoveries ; never 
was her employment more directly useful and in- 
teresting to mankind ! How little is known of the 
economy of ISature in production! Of the secret 
sources of her productive powers, other proces- 
ses in her analyses and her combinations, of 
her agents, her means, and modes of operation ! 
Nature has her peculiar laws for every species of 
her production, for each genus, class, species, and 
variety of her plants, and for every race of every 
order of her animals. Can there be any doubt of 
the greatest results from a kriowledge of these pe- 
culiar laws ? The instance, I am about to mention, 
in exemplification of these results, may have the 
less etiect, as the fruit 1 have selected, is deemed an 
article of luxury, rather than of profit, except in par- 
ticular places, and to be beneath the attention of 
the common farmer. He will learn to correct this es- 
timate. Fruits in general, besides being the most in- 
nocent, as well as the most delicious, of all the lux- 
uries of the palate, may be made to him a great 
source of great profit. But the fruit I particularly al- 
lude to, is the peach. You all know, that the peach 
tree is short lived ; that it is so, by the course of 
its own nature, independent!}' of accidental caus- 
es of premature death ; that after giving a i'cw 
crops it will begin to fail, and soon perish. Now, 
a knowledge of its peculiar laws of vegetation and 
fiuctitication, has suggested a peculiar mode of 
management, by which a vigorous life is prolong- 
ed almost indefinitely, certainly beyond the pe- 
riod of one hundred years; and by which it is 
kept in a state of never failing fertility. This 
knowledge seems first to have been acquired, 
and this mode of managemciit devised, and first 
adopted by the ingenious gardners of Montreuil, 
near Paris. In that interesting village, the peach 
tree, displays this improvement in all its efficacy. 
There, it is seen giving its abundant crop of deli- 



14 

cious fruit, from year to year and from generation to 
generation. This single improvement has accu- 
mulated the value of the same land at least to a ten 
fold degree. Some analogous instances might be 
given in exemplication of these results, but not 
many. The knowledge by which they are to be 
produced, has not been acquired, but which, if ac- 
quired would as certainly produce them. 

Agriculture is a subject to which a number of 
sciences may apply their powers, and probably 
with great effect : such as chemistry, mineralogy, 
botany, and the philosophy of mechanicks. Hith- 
erto, their application has been directed to the va- 
rious arts of manufacture and medicine, and their 
effect in the improvement of the arts particularly, 
has been wonderful indeed. It is true ao-riculture 
owes some obligations to them, but these are com- 
paratively few ; and they have mostly happened, 
incidentily, and accidentily, in the pursuit of other 
objects of discovery. The improvement of agri- 
culture has no where been their professed object 
of research. Some occasional and partial investi- 
gations, indeed have been attempted ; and so far 
this general remark is to stand qualified. 

It has hitherto been a misfortune particularly 
to agriculture, that science and practical knoAvl- 
edge have not been more united. The agricultural- 
isthasnot been a man of science, nor the man of sci- 
ence, an agriculturalist, except in rare instances. A 
greater union of the two characters would be a most 
desirable thing. Were the man of science engag- 
ed in the occupations of husbandry, his attention 
w^ould be arrested by the phenomena daily occur- 
ring to his observation; his curiosity would be awak- 
ened as to causes ; his science would suggest to him 
theories for their explication, and his experiments 
would bring them to a test. The man of mere 
science is apt to keep himself to its study, and pur- 
suit, without thinking much of its application to 



15 

practical uses, especially, if he have no profession 
or occupation to lead, to enlighten, and to interest 
him in making the application. He busies himself 
in applying his principles upon the problems of his 
science, or in making discoveries to extend its 
boundaries. He finds his enjoyment in the contem- 
plation of its abstract truths, and in his triumph 
over the difficulties, in his march to the discovery. 
If he have ambition, and it is hardly possible he 
should be without it, it is the ambition of mere 
scientlfick fame. 

The arts have been more fortunate in this re- 
spect. With regard to them, the union of practical 
knowledge and science has been more extensive, 
and this union has contributed wonderfully to their 
improvement. The botanist and physician are 
often united. The artist is not unfrequently a che- 
mist. Indeed chemistry began Avith the artist. His 
alchymy laid the foundation of chemistry. In seek- 
ing two imaginary secrets of nature, many real ones 
were found — the search was continued, discovery 
followed (discovery, till the science has been built 
up to what it now is: a science, that opens to view 
much of the internal world of nature, wonderful 
at least as her external, and, perhaps, more interest- 
ing. For while it reads to us the same instructive 
lessons of that divine wisdom and benevolence, 
which is every where manifest, and which has no 
bounds,it provides a store-house ofmeans, by which 
the condition of human li/e is improved, and is 
made more happy. The chemists and the artists 
have a mutual intercourse to their mutual profit. 
The artist attends the lectures of the chemist to 
learn the principles of the arts, and to perfect him- 
self in the means of perfecting them. The chemist 
visits the work-shop of the artist, to witness the 
practical operation of his own principles, and to 
get new hints and new lights, for new studies. In- 
deed the practical operations of the artist are near- 



16 

ly allied to the studies of the chemist, which are 
carried on by practical operations of a kindred 
nature. 

The means of extending this union of practical 
knowledge and science, with regard to Agriculture, 
are so many, so obvious, and so practicable, and may 
be made so effectual when the publick mind shall 
be turned in earnest towards the subject, that we 
may indulge the most sanguine hopes from this source 
of future improvement. A sketch of these means, 
with the proper explanations, together with a de- 
scription ofthe operation, which the sciences allu- 
ded to would have — how they would respectively 
enrich agriculture uith their peculiar contributions 
— these would make a large theme. I could dwell 
upon it with much pleasure, to myself at least; and 
every lover of agriculture, who turns his mind to the 
contemplation, will find it a most interesting one. 
But I must forbear from it, at present, or omit some 
other topicks which perhaps ought not to be omit- 
ted; trusting to what I hnve said as suthcient to 
remove the prejudice which opposes itself to any 
changes in our present system of farming. 

Ye Farmers then, lay aside your prejudices ! Be 
blinded by them no longer ! Open your eyes to your 
own great and immediate interest, in the object of 
improving the husbandry ofthe State! Be assur- 
ed, that it is a practicable object, and to an extent 
which at present you little imagine ; that it may be 
easily and rapidly accomplished with your cordial 
co-operation; that you are itivited to it by the most 
powerful considerations — the rapid accumulation 
of property, the placing yourselves in situations of 
comfort, of independence, of blessing, and being- 
blessed by, your iamilies, of providing for their ed- 
ucation, their establishment and their happiness in 
life, of making your sons and daughters worthy of 
their country, and your country proud of them ! — 
And ye men of capital, who have imbibed a preju- 



17 

dice against the employment of capital in the busi- 
ness of agriculture, under a notion that it is, and 
must be an unprofitable investment, be assured that 
this is an unfounded prejudice ; that it may be made 
a profitable investment, as much so as in any other 
bi-anch of industry, besides being attended with 
less risk than most other investments ! Capital 
is the very thing which is wanted. It is this want, 
and the ignorance of the \ery great and profitable 
use that may be made of capital, which has kept our 
agriculture down so low as it is, and made it so un- 
profitable as it has been. This has been the occa- 
sion of your prejudice. You have the means of sup- 
plying this want, and are the very men to embark 
in this business. Like every other branch of indus- 
try indeed, it demands the requisite qualifications 
for success ; the requisite knowledge, the requisite 
skill, the requisite attention, industry and econo- 
my ; but these are as easily acquired or command- 
ed for this branch of industry as for any other. 
Your capital gives you the command of the means 
of knowledge and of the use of skill. Attention, in- 
dustry and economy depend on yourselves. Every 
source of improvement that is known, here or else- 
where, is wiihin your reach ; every source for im- 
proving the productive powers of the soil, and 
abridging the expense of cultivation ; every source 
of improvement, as to the plants to be grown, the 
grains, the grasses, the roots and the fruits ; every 
source of improvement, as to the animals to be kept 
and propagated. In a word, every source of im- 
provement, as to every species of rural economy, 
and all further improvements, as they arise from 
time to time, from further discoveries, here and else- 
where,will also be within your reach. And from the 
universal ardour, kindled, and kindling, in this pur- 
suit, these further improvements may be expected 
to be very many and very great. Yes, you will as- 
suredly find it a very profitable, as well as the most 
3 



18 

delightful of occupations ; so delightful, that the 
sense of profit from your improviisg resources vvill 
be forgotten in the greater sense of pleasure m the 
pursuit! 

The first great object will be to augment the pro- 
ductive powers of tlie soil. This is the most impor- 
tant of all improvements. It lies at the foundation 
of all, it takes the lead of all, and gives much of their 
value to all. This once efFectcd, success is certain, 
and in proportion as it has been ctiected. Land once 
raised to a state of high fertility is easily kept fertile. 
It contains within itself and "ives the means of 
doing this, under a proper use and application of 
those means. The sources for means of augment- 
ing this productive power must in a measure de- 
pend on the given situation, its nature and advan- 
tages. But there is scarcely any situation embra- 
cing a considerable extent of land, say, one hundred 
acres, which does not compri&e these means, and is 
not connected with them, to a sufficient degree, to 
effectuate this object. Many situations possess 
them, in the greatest abundance, and some of 
these apparently the most promising. This pro- 
ductive power is acquired to land, by improve- 
ments, that in their nature are permanent, and by 
such as are adventitious only, requiring to be re- 
newed from time to time. It is the latter only, 
which has commanded any attention, among us, 
and this attention has been CTttremely limited. 
Nothing like the full benefit of this resource has 
been realized. Neither all the various kinds of 
manure are known, among us, nor the different 
modes and facilities of its manufacture and accu- 
mulation. The adventitious resource of fertility, 
from cultivation itself, a very great one indeed, so 
far from being understood in that light, is supposed 
to be, necessarily, a cause of deterioration and ste- 
rility; and by its perversion, actually is so. As to 
permanent improvements of this productive power,- 



1 



19 

they are not attempted at all, nor even thought of> 
Draining and irrigation, in certain situations, and 
almost all convenient and practicable means of 
mending the composition of the soil, present ob- 
jects for this species of improvement, and the most 
inviting objects. Plantation presents another. 

Water isatoncethegreatestenemy,and the great- 
est friend of vegetation. In its excess and stag- 
nation in the soil, it is pernicious, and the cause 
of sterility. In its diffusion and gentle currency 
over the soil, it is the greatest instrument of fer- 
tilization yet known. The evil of this element is 
subdued, and its great good acquired by the arts 
of draining and irrigation. These are arts, and 
it is in vain to think of these improvements, with- 
out a knowledge of the arts, and without the 
practical artist to execute the work. These arte 
are, in a manner, unknown in this country ; but, 
fortunately, they are simple, and easily learned, 
and the foreign artist is easily procured. Much 
more of our land is accessible to irrigation than 
we have any idea of, or can have, without more 
knowledge of the subject. We see this resource 
only in places, where it is obvious to the unlearn- 
ed eye ; but the theorist and the artist w ould see 
this resource with very ditlerent eyes. He would 
see it in our numberless streams, and the height of 
their sources above the great body of our lands. 
Some of these streams, it is true, fail in sinnmer, 
and would deny the means of summer irrigation ; 
but winter irrigation is valuable, almost as valua- 
ble as suTimer, and, wherever it is practicable, 
merits the utmost attention. This improvement 
would bring relief to the farmer, when relief is 
most wanted, when he is most distressed, when his 
stock is mo^t liable to suffer, and suffers most; 
that is, from the breaking up of winter, till the 
growth of grass. It would produce to him the 
most luxuriant and abundant pasturage, through 



20 

that plncliing period, for his cows and their calves, 
his ewes and their lambs, and for all the young, of 
all his stock ; and this, without the least injury to 
the crops of hay to follow, whicli would, notwith- 
standing, be most abundant. Irrigation, though 
generally appropriated to grass, is applicable to 
grain, and w ould probably be found superiour to 
any thing, for promoting the fruitfulness of orch- 
ards. An improvement, which gives to the barren 
and desolate waste the fertility of a garden, and 
makes that fertility perennial, can hardly be too 
hi""hly appreciated, or too dearly bought. But in 
many situations, it might be had at an expense so 
trilling, that it would give an annual profit of some 
huiidred per cent, upon the cost of t!ie improvement. 
Draining is a simpler art, more easily learned, the 
artist more easily procured, executed with less 
expense, but attended with effects equally bene- 
ficial, and with profits equally great. This is eve- 
ry where practicable, if needed, or if there be any 
exceptions, they must exist in very peculiar situa- 
tions. Individuals indeed, may perversely oppose 
obstacles, to tlie prejudice of their neighbours, as 
well as of themselves, but nature has interposed 
none, or if any, in very rare instances; for the 
requisite fall is almost every where to be found. 
S vamps, and swfim'^y lands, are the great scene 
of this improvement. It is a mistake, however, to 
suppose them the only scene. Much of our land, 
which is dry in summer, dry enough for late tillage, 
would be greatly benefitted by draining. All soil 
is deteriorated by being water-soaked, through a 
considerable portion of the year. One half of the 
value of manure, perliaps more, is lost on such 
lands. Only the more inforiour grains and grasses 
can be grown on them ; and of these, the crops 
are at best inferiour. All soil should be suffi- 
ciently drained to be dry enough for tillage, the 
moment the frost is out of it. Then every particle 



21 

of manure tells ; then, the earliest tillage may taiie 
place ; then, the most valuable grains, and grasses, 
may be grown; then, the crops will be abundant; 
then, you may see the harvests of the winter grains 
— the wheat, and the rye ; of the summer grains — 
the barley, and the maize ; the sweet and nutri- 
tious grasses,and particularly, the clovers; and the 
green crops of the esculent vegetables, where now 
you see the coarse, sour, tufted, bog-grass, the wild- 
Hag, the moss-hummock, and the whole tribe of 
aqueous vegetation ; — or, if in late tillage, where 
you now see a stunted growth of meagre oats, or 
more meagre Indian corn. 

Our swamps, and swampy grounds, have been 
considered of very little value, and, in many in- 
stances, rather as nuisances, than as property, oc- 
casioning some expense, and yielding no profit. 
And in their present state, and if that state is to be 
continued, they are justly so considered; though 
they have, in themselves, an inexhaustible treasure 
of fertility, a deeper, a richer, and more lasting 
soil, than any we possess; capable of giving great- 
er crops, of every kind, and incapable of being 
exhausted. Here it is, that draining becomes the 
most profitable of all improvements, accumulates 
the most value from the least outlay, creates a cap- 
ital, out of nothing, as it were, at an expense that 
is, as nothing, compared to that capital, and which 
in some cases, is reimbursed, by the profits of the 
first year. 

The substance of a good soil is made up of dif- 
ferent kinds of earth, in certain proportions to each 
other, but intimately mixed and compounded into 
an uniform body. This compound we call a loam, 
which, you know, is of different kinds, depending 
on the different proportions in which the compo- 
nent kinds of earth are blended together. One 
kind of earth, alone, will not make a good soil. 
No art can make it so, by itself. It may be forced 



22 

to do something, but not enough to pay the ex- 
pense of the cultivation. Thus, either a pure sand, 
or a pure clay, cannot be worked to advantage ; 
but sand and clay, intimately mixed, become a 
loam and make a good soil. In this mixture of 
earths, necessary to a good soil, there are several 
other kinds, but commonly, in smaller proportions. 
Among these, the principal one is what is called 
calx, a kind of earth, partaking of the nature of 
lime, and abounding, more or less, in all good 
soils, but so diffused and blended with the mass, 
as not to be distinguishable by the eye. The com- 
position of a soil, then, is to be improved, by sup- 
plying the kind of earth which it w mts. Is a part 
of your farm too sandy? It will be improved by 
carting on clays, or strong loams. Is a part too 
clayey ? It will be improved by carting on sands, 
or sandy loams. Your compost manure heaps too, 
for your sands, ought to be on a basis of clay, or 
strong loam. For your clays, the basis ought to 
be sand, or sandy loam. Then, your manures, 
while they enrich, will improve the composition of 
your soil. You will unite the adventitious, and 
permanent improvement, in the same operation. 
The great difficulty is, to effect the intimate un- 
ion of the superadded earth, with the soil to be im- 
proved. In this consists the whole art of the improve- 
ment. One errour, to be guarded against, is, the 
attempting to do too much, at once. The incorpo- 
ration is only to be effected, by moderate dressings, 
from year to year. Time, and nature, do this work 
for man, which he cannot do, at once, for himself 
Another errour, to be avoided, is that of burying 
the superadded earth, in the soil. It is to be ap- 
plied, as a top-dressing, and left to work its own 
way into an incorporation with the soil ; and it is 
found better applied, on a surface of turf, than on 
the bare mould. 



23 

The improvement of the composition of the soil 
has been, for a long time, and still is, an object of 
much attention, in England, and the effects, there^ 
have been wonderfully great. The most produc- 
tive agricultural district, now in England, that, 
which exhibits the most perfect model of their most 
perfect agriculture, that, which gives the largest 
returns to the same capital in labour and cultiva- 
tion, was once, and not long ago, a mere sand ; 
kept for sheep-walks and rabbit-warrens, and rent- 
ed for a trifle. I allude to a considerable portion 
of the county of Norfolk. Beneath this sand, 
which was about four feet deep, was found a sub- 
soil of clay, of great depth. This was brought to 
the surface and a soil made, w hich is now the pride 
of the agriculture of England. It is amidst those 
high scenes of cultivation, on his own estates, 
where the celebrated Coke displays his splendid 
hospitality at his famous sheep-shearings — it is 
there, the agriculture of England pays annual 
homage to its patron and benefactor — it is there^ 
the American too, meets a welcome, and finds his, 
and his country's friend, in his hospitable host. 
This species of improvement has extended itself 
all over England, and of late, its theory, as well a& 
the art, has attracted very particular attention. It 
was one principal object of the lectures of Sir 
Humphrey Davy. 

Our cleared lands are too much cleared ; too 
bare of trees. The land suffers, the crop suffers, 
the stock suffers, in consequence. Plantation is 
wanted. And it is an improvement so attainable,, 
it may be made so profitable, it would tend so much 
to embellish our farms, that it is deserving of at- 
tention, independently of its efTect, in adding to the 
fertility of the soil, which, however, is such, as to 
be alone a sufficient recommendation. 

Why enclosure and shelter of fields, of moderate 
extent, should augment their productive powers, it 



24 

tnay be difficult to tell exactly. But that it has 
this effect, and to a striking degree, I think is cer- 
tain. Whether it be, that the effluvia of the earth 
is more confined — is less liable to dissipation and 
dispersion, or whether it be, that the atmosphere, 
being more confined, makes larger deposits, or 
whether, both causes operate, or whether some 
other cause operates — the eflfect is unquestionable. 
We see it in every instance — even the shelter of 
a bush, or a whifT of straw, we see, has this ef- 
fect. This effect is visible from the shelter, even 
of our common stone-walls ; at least, within the in- 
fluence of that shelter. But when these walls are 
lined with trees, it is more conspicuous. We see 
then, that vegetation is earlier, is later, is stronger, 
for the shelter ; and that its friendly influence is 
felt on every kind of crop. 

The same effect has been verified, and is attest- 
ed, by every new enclosure made from the downs 
in England. These, you know, are vast extended 
commons, lying bare to the heavens. You know, 
also, that enclosure in England, is at the same time 
shelter — that their enclosures are live-hedges. 
This effect, there, is so great, as to strike the most 
careless observer, and it is frequently referred to, 
by their writers, in proof of the fertilizing effect of 
enclosure. Whether for fruit, fuel or timber, or 
all three, "svhat a resource this might be made to 
every farm ; — a resource, too, that would take no- 
thing from the produce of the meadow, or the corn- 
field, or the pasture, but would add to that of all 
three ; and a resource, so cheaply to be acquired, 
that it is within the command of every farmer ! 

We come now, to the adventitious improvements, 
requiring to be renewed from time to time. The 
great article of manure is first and chief. Cultiva- 
tion is a great subsidiary to this, but cannot be 
made a complete substitute. The perfection of 
agriculture results from the combination of both. 



25 

But, manure— manure, is the one thing needful. This 
is the true labour-saving machinery of production. 
It does the work of many hands. It does the work 
no hands can do ; gives jou a choice of your kinds 
of crops ; gives you the richest, the most valuable, 
and most profitable, instead of such inferiour ones 
only, as the land will otherwise bear. It will give 
you the wheat, and the barley-crop ; — any kind of 
green crop of esculent vegetables ; the hemp, the 
dax, the tobacco crop ; the richest grasses, the lu- 
cern, and clovers ; the pistil, the madder, and other 
plants, for the manufacturer; the poppy, the saffron, 
the licorice, the rhubarb, and other plants, for the 
druggist. Let this object, then, the accumulation 
of manures, be your constant study and effort, your 
thought by day and by night; for here is to be dis- 
played the test of good farming and of the good 
farmer. It is evident, generally speaking, that it 
will not do to rely on collateral resources, for a 
requisite supply. In particular situations, these are 
great, and may be found sufficient. Such are sit- 
uations, in the neighbourhood of large towns, of 
distilleries, of the sea-shore, and some others. 
Such are situations, in which the plaister and 
lime will answer, and near to water carriage. In 
these situations, these collateral resources ought 
never to be neglected. They ought to be taken 
hold of eagerly. The whole benefit of them should 
be secured and fully realized. But the great 
resource of our farms must be their internal means 
of supply, and fortunately, these may be made 
sufficient. Yes, you have the means, within your 
farms, of raising them to the fertihty of gardens'; 
not at once, but progressively, step by step, and by 
advances more and more rapid, as you proceed. 
You are to take care, however, not to lose by your 
improvidence, what you gain by your industry ; and, 
in your eagerness after immediate profits, waste 
the fund of your future profit, and exhaust your 
4 



26 

land, as fast as you enrich it. Be satisfied with 
your golden egg, day after day ; nor in your ava- 
rice to get at her treasure, at once, kill your hen 
that lays it. This work is to be begun, by the 
stock you have, and can keep, on }our farm. 
They are to be your manufacturers of manure, and 
if supplied with sufficient material, will manufac- 
ture a great deal; at least ten times the quantity, 
that is ordinarily made from them. And this manure 
will be equal in quality, as well as so much aug- 
mented in quantity. It may be made, too, to com- 
municate an improvement to the soil, which never 
will be lost, whilst it communicates to the growing 
crop the nourishment it requires, and on which its 
virtue is expended. The material is to be, earth 
of any kind, and litter of every kind. It is a mis- 
take to suppose, that only turf or mould are good 
for this purpose. Turf and mould, to be sure, are 
best — they are already, almost manures. But 
any earth will answer the purpose well enough. 
For litter, nothing is amiss : straw, stubble, roots 
of corn-stalks, weeds, coarse-grass, leaves, small 
brush; in a word, every thing that is capable of 
rotting and fermenting. These are to make the 
beds, on which the stock are to make their depo- 
sites, and to be kept ; and every kind of stock — 
horses, cattle, sheep, swine, and even poultry, aret<y 
be furnished with these beds. Supplies of material 
are to be prepared for the whole season of winter- 
keeping of stock. This will lay the foundation of 
another system, which will add to the effect of this ; 
that is, the system of soiling a part of your stock ; 
your horses and your working oxen, partially ; your 
Cows, your swine, partially. By soiling is meant 
stall-feeding with mown grasses. Particular kinds 
of grass are to be cultivated for this purpose, as 
the lucern, the saintfoin, the clovers, the winter 
and summer vetches ; and we may add Indian corn, 
sown broad-cast. Some advocate this system of 



21 

soil-feeding, exclusively, without any pasturing at 
all, and for the whole stock, and it is easy to see what 
wonderful means of accumulating manure this sys- 
tem would give. Of the exclusive system, however, 
I doubt the expediency, in this country. But a 
system, combined of soiling and pasturage, as it 
might be pursued, I think, would be a very great 
improvement upon our present system — soiling of 
our working cattle, in the season of work, and 
soiling of our cows, combined with pasturage. I 
think it certain, there would be much economy and 
profit in this. There cannot be any doubt of its 
being a very great resource, for the manufacture 
of manure. Then this important work, could be 
carried on, through the summer season, as well as 
through the winter, and to much greater effect, as 
manure is then much more rapidly made. This 
will lay the foundation of another system still, 
which will add yet more to the effect of the other 
two. I mean the system of raising field crops of 
esculent vegetables ; the cabbage, the turnip, car- 
rot, and the parsnip. Soiling would enable you to 
keep more stock ; but green crops, would enable 
you to double it. And the profits would be 
more than double — to be realized from the milk, 
the butter and cheese, from your cows ; but, more 
especially, in rearing of young stock for your farms, 
and in fattening the old, for the market ; and on 
sheep farms, still more especially, in the manage- 
ment of your sheep. But with a view to manure, 
consider what an addition it would give to your 
means of making it ! Who can doubt the sufficien- 
cy of these means to accomplish the important end 
of raising your farms, progressively, to the highest 
state of fertility — means which you all have, or may 
command within yourselves ? But you have other 
means, even more within yourselves, and equally 
efficacious. These are the ashes which you may 
make from burnt earth, burnt in a smothered fire. 



28 

These ashes are a very powerful manure. On all 
dry soils, their effect on vegetation is very striking. 
It is still more visible on the seed than in the plant. 
No manure tends more to fill out the ear, and en- 
large the seed of every species of grain. They 
are too, a very cheap manure. Land maybe ma- 
nured with them, at one third of the cost of manuring 
with stable manure. They are equally lasting, in 
effect ; and the resource on every farm, is unlimit- 
ed. It is a new improvement, and none in modern 
husbandry, is more valuable. Paring and burning 
is not new. It is as old as the Romans. But this 
mode is new, and it is this mode, which makes it so 
valuable. 

This improvement has spread over Ireland, and 
with great effect. Her labouring population are 
generally familiar with the process. The late emi- 
grants from that class, to this country, have brought 
with them the knowledge, and are ready to as- 
sist us in introducing the practice. Indeed, the 
merit of this happy discovery belongs to Ireland; 
Ireland, the land of genius of every kind, and alas, 
the land too, of misfortunes of the worst kind — the 
miseries of a foreign and unfeeling domination ! 
There Nature has seemed as if kindly desirous to 
indemnify her children, by the profusion of her 
gifts, for the oppressions they have been doomed 
to suffer, from the hand of man — by genius, whose 
eloquence, while it commands the admiration of a 
sympathizing world, has procured for its unfortu- 
nate country, some retribution — which has nailed 
that guilty hand to a column that will perpetuate its 
cruel infamy, to all future ages, and in every age, 
call forth the execrations of mankind. 

1 have said, that cultivation, though subsidiary 
to, could not be made a complete substitute for 
manure. Tull, one of the most ingenious and ori- 
ginal writers we have, though we can hardly be 
said to have him, for his works are not to be found 



29 

in this country, inundated as it is, with compilations 
from much intleriour writers ; Tull conceived, that 
cultivation might be made a complete substitute 
for manure ; that the same field might be made to 
give the same kind of crop, year after year, without 
end, and without diminution. He made many ex- 
periments to verify his theory, and he satisfied him- 
self, that he had proved it. He was too sanguine; and 
finding his principle an important one, he overrated 
its power, as is very natural to original authors of 
new theories. But his experiments, certainly did 
prove, the very great efficiency of cultivation in 
ameliorating the soil. 

To move the soil, to the depth it will bear — to 
move it frequently — to make it fine to that depth, 
and to keep it so, has a great effect on the grow- 
ing crop ; little less, than a good dressing of ma- 
nure. And on the soil, it has a more lasting effect 
than the manure itself Besides it gives the ma- 
nure a much greater effect, than it would otherwise 
have ; so that as was before observed, the perfec- 
tion of agriculture results from the combination of 
manure, with tillage in perfection. 

Tillage increases both the heat and the moist- 
ure of the soil — the radical heat and moisture, 
those great nursing elements of all vegetation. 
Whether it be, by promoting the effluvia of the 
earth, which is known to be great, or by promo- 
ting the absorption of the deposites of the atmos- 
phere, which are also known to be great, or by both; 
or whether, some other cause or causes operate, 
the effect is certain. The increase of heat in the 
soil by tillage, has been ascertained by chemical 
experiments, accurately made ; and the increase of 
moisture by tillage, is verified by constant obser-- 
ration. Fallowed grounds are always found more 
moist than the adjoining grounds, which have not 
been ploughed, though in the same field, and lying 
in alternate strips of ploughed and unploughed 



30 

ground. Drought is alleviated by tillage. Tillage 
may be made almost a complete remedy against it. 
In the universal failure of the Indian-corn crop in 
the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, in consequence 
of a long and severe drought, a tenant of the fa- 
mous Montesquieu, raised a full crop. Montes- 
quieu inquired, how he had contrived to make 
himself an exception to all his neighbours. He 
replied, by means of frequent tillage. He had 
in fact ploughed and dressed his corn-fields, ele- 
ven times ! 

The expense of this more perfect tillage would 
be reimbursed, with great interest, in the crops 
under cultivation. It would be reimbursed, again 
and again, in the greater abundance of the crops 
to follow, not under cultivation, and in the amelio- 
ration it Avould give to the soil itself. Can wedoubt 
of this ameliorating effect, when we see that the 
barley, the oats and the grass, that follow Indian 
corn and potatoes, are always better, in proportion 
to the degree of tillage, that has been given to the 
cultivated crops.'* Tillage is the penalty imposed 
on man, and by paying the penalty, he redeems the 
earth from its curse ; cursed, for his sake, " to bring 
forth thorns and tliislles." He restores it to its pri- 
meval state — when " there went up a mist from the 
earth, that watered the whole face of the ground," 
to bring forth " every plant of the field, and every 
herb of the field." He regains his earthly paradise. 

The study, which, of late, has occupied so many 
minds, to improve the means to this end — the per- 
fecting of tillage, to make them less expensive, 
and more effectual, by new and better implements 
of husbandry, by new and better modes of culture, 
by lessening the labour of the hand, and extending 
that of the horse and the ox, has produced, and is 
producing, valuable effects. It is deserving of ev- 
ery encouragement and patronage, for it is adding 
a new value to the farm, and giving a new profit to 
the farmer. 



31 

These means, which will enable you to give fertil- 
ity to your lands, will be abundant, and more than 
sufficient to continue that fertility, and to keep it 
improving, especially, if combined, as it ought to 
be, with a proper rotation of crops. Rotation of 
crops is an important article in husbandry. It is 
one of its modern improvements. But its detail 
would be too large a theme for this occasion, as 
the rotation must vary with the situation and cir- 
cumstances. Its principle, however, is, to follow 
an exhausting crop with one that is ameliorating. 
It is well known that different crops have these 
different effects. — Its uses are, to combine the ad- 
vantage of a fallow with the profit of a crop, at the 
same time — to supply the fertility, which has been 
lost to land by the nature of one crop, by a crop 
of a different nature, and which restores its fertili- 
ty; and, by diversifying your crop, to avail your- 
self of all the various kinds of vegetable food,, 
which the soil is calculated to give. It is well 
known, that different plants feed on different ele- 
ments, or in different proportions, on the same ele- 
ment. 

We come, now, to the subject of crops. There 
are certain limitations to the kinds of plants to be 
cultivated. Some are imposed by climate, some by 
the nature of the soil, but more by its condition. 
Poverty of soil is itself an interdict to the cultiva- 
tion of many kinds. It imposes a greater limita- 
tion than any other circumstance of situation, in 
the choice of crop. It places the crop too, more 
at the mercy of the season, and more in the power 
of accident, from blight, from mildew, and from in- 
sects. But we are to suppose this interdict taken 
off, that the farm is got into fertility by the means 
already indicated, or by some of them, or by other 
means, and kept in that state, or improving; that 
all the range is given to cultivation, which the cli- 
mate and the nature of the soil will admit. 



32 

We have not, in cultivation, all the kinds of 
plants adapted to our situations ; — far from it. The 
circle might be much enlarged, and very advanta- 
geously. We are still more deficient in the valua- 
ble varieties of each kind, than in the kinds them- 
selves. Generally, we have run upon a few cer- 
tain kinds only, and on a particular sort of each 
kind. For our deficiency in varieties, take for 
example, the oat. The oat we have, is a light, 
meagre grain, and our cultivation is confined to 
that. It has probably degenerated from the origi- 
nal plant, for it is difficult to say of what known 
species it is ; and poor as it is, it is nevertheless 
liable to blast, in some parts of the State. Now, 
there are five or six distinct, known species ; 
each one more valuable than the one we have ; 
better fitted to our soils and situations — some 
proper for warm and dry lands and some for 
cold and moist ; some early, some late ; some 
yielding great abundance of straw and grain ; 
and some with little straw, yielding great weight 
of grain. I allude to the Poland oat, the Essex, 
the black, the early, and the potatoe oat, all in 
cultivation, in England. There are probably, 
other varieties of equal or greater value, in other 
countries. Can there be any doubt, that these 
varieties might be introduced here with great 
profit ? The profits of this single improvement 
easily made as it is, would doubtless add thou- 
sands and thousands to this State. The source 
of improvement most within our reach, and the 
most promising as to results, is this of introdu- 
cing improved varieties of cultivated plants, and 
improvements to be made upon that improve- 
ment. I am informed that the original cotton- 
plant of the southern States was a poor thing ; 
that it was, and must have remained an unpro- 
fitable plant ; that no expense of cultivation could 
make it otherwise. But by introducing a dif- 



33 

ferent species, the effect, we see, has been aston- 
ishing. It has produced a great revolution in their 
agriculture ; the greatest perhaps ever known, in 
anj country. It has opened a source of immense 
and inexhaustible riches to those States. There is 
a species of another plant, which, if introduced 
here, would probably do as much for us — for all 
New-England — for the middle and western States, 
as the cotton has done for the southern. I allude 
to the new species of flax, found at New Zealand. 
It is so much finer than ours, and so much more 
abundant, that it would become an article of gene- 
ral cultivation, especially, as the great expense of 
dew and water-rotting, and of breaking by hand, 
may now all be saved by the operation of ma- 
chinery, recently invented for this purpose ; ma- 
chinery, by which more is gained in quantity, to 
the dressed flax, than sufficient to pay the expense 
of the operation. And still more especially, as 
the expense of hand-spinning, on the single spindle, 
may now be mostly saved, by spinning frames of 
many spindles, moved by hand or water, as in the 
working of cotton. The spinning of flax besides, 
becomes much more expeditious, than that of cot- 
ton, it is said, as six to one. Can there be any 
doubt then, that this new species of flax, combined 
with this newly invented machinery, would lay the 
foundation of linen manufactures, fully as important 
as the cotton ? Linen fabricks might be made at 
a Ic^ss expense than cotton, and sold at cheaper 
rates. They would then successfully compete 
with the cotton, and probably command a readier 
market. There is no kind of plant which we cul- 
tivate, or can cultivate, of which the different va- 
rieties would not. be an important acquisition. 
There is no improvement which is begun with so 
little expense. It requires merely the cost of the 
seed and the cost of the transportation, and from 



34 

whatever part of the world it come, this can never 
be great. 

Now for the improvements, to be made upon 
this improvement. Some individual plants of 
every variety are found to have its good qualities 
more eminently than the rest — earlier maturity, 
more prolifick productiveness, more abundance, 
both in the plant and the produce ; more nutritious 
matter, a better relish. These qualities are trans- 
missible. The seed produces a plant like the pa- 
rent plant. A race is thus propagated, superiour 
to the race to which it belongs. This race may 
be improved upon again, by a repetition of the 
same process ; and in this way, improvement may 
be added to ii\provement, progressively, and almost 
indefinitely. Thus Mr. Cooper, of New Jersey, 
raised up a race of Indian corn, much more prolifick 
in ears, and much earlier in ripening, than was the 
kind he began with. He did the same thing with 
potatoes and other plants. He proved the notion 
to be altogether erroneous, that seed necessarily 
degenerates, if continued in the same place. 
Some kinds of seeds will certainly degenerate, 
if no attention be paid to the principle of improve- 
ment. A change of seed, from place to place, is 
then necessary ; and where every attention is paid 
to the principle of improvement, the change is 
useful, if equal attention has been paid to it, in 
both places. This principle may be applied to 
the improvement of every species of crop, to all 
our grains, all our grasses, all our esculent roots. 
The improvement, in this case, is still more easily 
to be effected, than in the other. It may be be- 
gun without any expense. All that it requires is, 
attention in the saving of seed, directed by the 
principle I have mentioned. This is in a manner a 
new field, not only here, but elsewhere. What 
has been done in it, has been attended with such 
promising results, that there is every encourage- 



35 

inent to proceed. It is a plan, full of high and 
rational hopes. The principle I have here stated, 
is not new. The propagating of improved races 
from particular individuals, has been adopted, with 
regard to animals, with complete success. Bake- 
well began it, with regard to cattle, and he kept 
his secret, till he had secured his fortune. The 
same principle has since been extended to every 
kind of stock, and the improvement has been such, 
that the stock is frequently w^orth more than the 
fee-simple of the farm by which it is kept ; and that 
too, where the farm, as in England, is enormously 
great. We have made a beginning in this im- 
provement, and here it may be more rapid than in 
England, as we have, and can have, breeders from 
their improved races, and all our own stock to 
select from, for the same purpose. This is an art 
by itself^ though a simple one. When butcher's 
meat is the object, it is the art of selecting the ani- 
mal whose disposition is to fatten — which acquires 
the most flesh and the most rapidly from the least 
food, which is so framed, that the most valuable 
parts for meat, bear the greatest proportion to 
parts the least valuable ; or where the object is 
milk — to select the cow whose disposition is such, 
that her food runs to milk, rather than to flesh, 
and runs to milk, in the greatest abundance. The 
meat, the milk, the butter, and the cheese, from 
the same food, and the same number of animals, is 
to be prodigiously augmented in this way. A dif- 
ferent principle of improvement applies to sheep, 
when the fleece is the object, and to the horse, al- 
ways. In these cases, however, the principle is 
too well known to need explanation. But to return 
to the subject of crops. 

Some kinds of plants are more valuable than 
others, but they may not be so profitable. The 
difference, in quantity, may more than make up for 
difference, in quality. It is then, when the nature 



36 

or the circumstances of the situation are followed, 
not forced, that the success is greatest and most 
certain. It is then that Nature does the most fot 
man, with the least assistance from him. This rule 
applies to stock, as well as to plants. Both are 
most profitable, when best adapted to the situation. 
Almost all farms admit of every kind of crop to ad- 
vantage, though not in the same proportions, but 
varying in proportion, as the different soils vary ; 
and the same remark is applicable to stock. The 
prevailing crop, and the prevailing stock, should 
be what the farm is best calculated to carry. A 
farm throughout, that is, best fitted for the converti- 
ble husbandry — convertible from grass to grain, and 
from grain to grass, is the most profitable farm ; and 
hence the value of all those means by which the 
farm is brought into this desirable state. But, 
after all, it will generally possess some predomina- 
ting power, and this should govern, as to the pre- 
vailing crop, or rotation of crops. Hence too, the 
great advantage of the multiplying of plants to be 
cultivated, and of multiplying their varieties. This 
increases the means of deriving the greatest pos- 
sible profit from every species of soil, by adapt- 
ing every species to the plant it is best fitted to 
produce. The chalk soils of England were un- 
profitable in grass ; as much so as any of our 
lightest lands, before the introduction of saintfoin. 
Now, those soils make some of their best upland 
meadows. They now afford to pay a large rent to 
the landlord, whilst the tenant grows rich upon 
them. But formerly the rent was trifling, and yet 
it was found to impoverish the tenant. The pro- 
duce upon them, in this grass, is more than twenty 
fold what they would give in any other. The saint- 
foin is made to give two or three crops, annually, 
and abundant crops. It is the sweetest and most 
nutritious of all grasses. Horses fatten upon the 
hay made of it, without grain. It is the finest of 



37 

all green food for milch cows, to make abundance 
of milk, and to make butter and cheese of the 
finest quality ; and for sheep, no grass is equal to 
it. It is a perennial plant, and lasts for years in the 
ground in lull vigour ; and all that time will ameli- 
orate the soil, and so rapidly, that when broken 
up, it requires no other preparation for carrying 
any crop whatever, and greater than any other 
preparation would give. What an acquisition this 
plant would be to many situations in this State ! 
What valuable meadows it would make, where 
now the land, when in meadow, is scarcely worth 
mowing ; where the scanty herbage is as poor in 
quality, as it is small in quantity, and when in pas- 
ture, scarcely affords a miserable living to a few 
miserable sheep ! This plant flourishes in the 
driest soils, dry, to a great depth, and unretentive 
of moisture ; and will flourish in no other. The 
more these lands indeed, are enriched, by manure 
and tillage, the better for the plant ; though it 
flourishes without this aid. But moisture, the 
great defect of the situations alluded to, it does 
not require. Some have supposed, that our winters 
w^uld prove too severe for it ; but this I have 
reason to believe is a mistake. I think it as hardy 
as the red clover, as little liable to be winter-kil- 
led ; for the past winter, which killed so much of 
that clover, did not aflfect at all the saintfoin plants, 
standing in my garden, and in no way protected 
from the operation of the frost. At any rate, the 
experiment is worth making, and should be fairly 
made. Too often things are tried and condemned 
upon insuflicient trials. If it succeed, the gain 
will be great ; the loss cannot be serious, if it fail, 
of which, however, I apprehend no danger, if good 
seed be obtained, and the experiment be fairly 
made. 

But the cultivation, which may be the most uni- 
versal of any, of which every farm in a state offer- 



38 

tility, admits ; which is the most certain to be at- 
tended with great and positive profits, is the culti- 
vation of green crops, in the field way. There is 
such a variety in the nature of those crops, that 
some of them are suited to the nature of every 
farm, be it what it may. For the strong, clayey, 
and moist lands, there is the cabbage, and its va- 
rious tribes. There is the rape too, a plant un- 
known in this country, but which, in England, is the 
one, which, of all their crops, is considered, on the 
whole, as the most profitable ; and which, there is 
every reason to believe, may be cultivated here, 
with equal profit. There is the beet and its dif- 
ferent species, and their varieties. For the dry 
lands, the sands, and sandy loams, there is the car- 
rot, the parsnip, the turnip, and its numerous sorts : 
whilst every kind of green crop may be grown on 
all lands of a good composition, with almost equal 
advantage. The labour of field culture will not ex- 
ceed that of Indian corn ; but whatever the labour 
may be, it is most abundantly rewarded. Thirty 
tons of cabbage to an acre, is not an uncommon 
crop. More than double that, has been obtained, and 
other green crops hold nearly in proportion. Then 
you have the market for it, all within yourself, on 
your own farm. Every pound of it may be fed out 
with profit to your stock. Your stock may be more 
than double what it now is, may be better kept than 
it now is. It will give you the means of fatting 
much more of it, for the butcher and the market, 
and of vastly increasingevery species of profit, from 
every use to be made of stock, especially, if com- 
bined with a system of soiling. One acre of lucerne 
will soil-feed four working horses, thro' the sea- 
son, and keep them in good heart. Lucerne is a 
plant, which stands our winters perfectly well. It 
comes early, grows rapidly, and yields abundantly. 
It is ready for the scythe, early in May, and may be 
mowed, three or four times in the season. If made 



39 

into hay, it will yield more than any other cultivat- 
ed grass in the world, and hay of" a most excellent 
quality. In England, it is found difficult to make it 
intohay,and it is, there,principally cultivated for soil- 
ing. But, in this country, dry and hot as our climate is, 
there would be no difficulty experienced. For soil- 
ing, besides lucerne, sainfoin should be cultivated, 
and the vetch, both winter and summer. These plants 
are all unknown here, but may all be ventured up- 
on, with certainty of success^ These plants, with 
the grasses we cultivate, would enable the farmer 
to adopt the system with convenience, and to any 
extent, that on trial, he should approve. Oats are 
in some parts of this State, always cut green and 
made into hay, as the grain is apt to blast. But the 
vetch would be found much superiour for this pur- 
pose. It makes most excellent fodder, and in much 
greater abundance, than the oat. Green crops and 
soiling, give such a command of manure, that noth- 
ing can equal that system for the progressive and 
rapid improvement of the productive powers of the 
farm; and if the system had no other recommenda- 
tion, this alone would be sufficient for its adoption. 
But it is, independently, and in itself, much the 
most profitable system. It is the system of England, 
and what has contributed most essentially, to the 
wonderful success of her agriculture. The turnip 
laid the foundation of it. Before the transfer of 
that vegetable, from the kitchen garden to the field, 
from being a mere esculent root of the table for 
man, to becoming an extended resource of food, 
for his flocks and his herds, which naturally con- 
nected itself with the field culture of every other 
garden vegetable of equal promise ; all which has 
taken place within the memory of many, now living 
there ; — before this innovation, the agriculture of 
England was comparatively low, very little, if in 
any thing, in advance of our own. The stock of 
their soil was not in a greater proportion of one to 



10 

the other. Now, nothing appears so wonderful to 
us, and would be so incredible, as the proportion 
of their stock to theirsoil, were not the accounts so 
well attested. 

As nothing is more dehcious, so nothing is more 
wholesome, than well ripened fruit. It is its deli- 
ciousness, that makes its danger. It tempts to 
excess in eating, and to eating it, unripe. It is 
a delicacy of Nature, and prepared by Nature's 
own hand ; and her art is so exquisite, that her 
children are tempted to become epicures at her 
table. But taken in moderation, she makes it 
as wholesome to the constitution, as it is deli- 
cious to the palate. Sir William Temple could 
say from experience, that the season of fruit was 
always the season of health, with his family. 
Fruit seems to be the favourite food of Nature. 
All animals devour it with eagerness. It is the 
longing of every appetite. The avidity for it 
is such, that almost all restraints are broken 
through, to obtain it. Nothing but its plenty, 
can give it security in promiscuous cultivation. 
There is no luxury of the unadulterated palate so 
much coveted ; and in places where Nature has 
denied the production, no cost in forcing it is 
considered too great. The price reimburses the 
cost with profit. Those who are able and dis- 
posed to spend money on luxuries, will have it, 
be the cost what it may, and in preference to 
all other luxuries. All classes eagerly buy it, 
when it is so plentiful as to be brought down to 
the level of the means of all. Its power of plea- 
sing the palate is such as to give it a command- 
ing influence over the imagination. No poet 
ever undertook to paint a delightful situation, an 
earthly paradise, without filling it with fruit trees ; 
nor could he succeed, if he did. This is what 
constituted the human charm of the garden of 
Eden, " where every tree was made to grow that 



41 

was pleasant to the eye, and good for food." Fn 
the gardens of the Hesperides, it is the fruit that 
captivates the imagination of the reader ; and in 
the half magical garden of Alcinous, it is not the 
marble fountain, which takes hold of his fancy ; it 
is the reddening apple, ripening into gold ; it is the 
bending vine, with the clustering grape, shining in 
the sun. Besides the unfailing market, that may 
be expected for the fruit, there is the farm, where 
so much is wanted for family consumption, where it 
contributes so much to the pleasure of the family 
table, and where it is manufactured into so many 
liquors ; the cider, the perry, the wines, the ardent 
spirits, the vinegar, both for family consumption, 
and the market ; so that a few acres of fruit be- 
come a source of more revenue, than the whole 
farm besides. Nothing, in agriculture, gives so 
much value to the land it occupies, as a good fruit 
tree. In many instances, it adds many hundred 
per cent, to that value. The original cost is a 
mere nothing, even if the young tree be purchased. 
But if it be raised, and formed, as it may be, a little 
labour procures it. The time, it requires to come to 
a state of bearing, ought to be no objection ; for in 
the mean time the land may be cropped, and the 
tree will be the better for the tillage. Its grow th and 
maturity will be perceptibly hastened. The new va- 
lue begins with its plantation, and grows with its 
growth. That one may plant the tree, and that ano- 
ther, to come after him, may enjoy the fruit, ought to 
occasion no hesitation. Every one hopes to leave 
value to his children or relations. The shape is of 
no material consequence, whether it bein agrowing 
tree, or in one, grown. If at the verge of life he 
plant — he adds so much to the value of the land, 
for the benefit of his heir. But these objections, if 
felt at all, can be felt only, as to the apple and the 
pear, which come late, but last long. As to all 
other fruits,he that plants at almost any age, may hope 
6 



42 

to enjoy, their maturity is so early. Every thing 
depends upon care, enlightened care, in securing, 
training, and forming the tree in the first place ; and 
then on its subsequent management. It is this which 
is to ensure its vigour and constant fertility. Here 
then opens upon us a great field for improve- 
ment ; no less extensive than the improvement 
of plants and animals, and depending on the same 
principle, viz. propagation from improved indi- 
viduals of the variety that is cultivated. Some 
fruit trees are naturally much more fruitful than 
others of the same kind, placed in similar cir- 
cumstances, and yield fruit of a better quality. 
The races, propagated from these, will furnish im- 
proved individuals, which may be founders of 
races, still more improved.* This improvement de- 
pends also, on another principle, viz. the peculiar 
cultivation, which is adapted to its particular laws 
of vegetation and fructification. The vigour and 
fertility of the tree must necessarily be greatly pro- 
moted by a cultivation of this kind. Here too, is an 
art, which is w anting in this country, and is but im- 
perfectly understood, in any. The master of this art 
would have his fortune in his own hands. Let this 
consideration animate us to the pursuit of so im- 
portant an acquisition. 

We can have every kind of fruit in abundance, 
except the tropical, by the favour of our soil and 
our seasons, and it is pleasing to witness so many 
among us, availing themselves of our natural advan- 
tages, and the success which attends their efforts. 
There is, however, the pear, for perry, which may 
be made a profitable addition to our orcharding. 
Perry, well manufactured, is a more delicate liquor, 
and of higher market value, than cider ; very little if 

* A nursery established on this principle, connected with the 
plantation of standard trees, I have no doubt would lead to the 
most important improvements ; and most probably make the for- 
tune of the adventurer. 



43 

any thing inferiour to many wines. The tree too is a 
better and more certain bearer than the apple tree ; 
hardier, longer lived, requiring less favour from the 
soil, and less assistance from nurture. But the fruit, 
which I flatter myself promises the greatest addi- 
tion to the profits of the farmer, is the grape. I 
mean the vineyard-grape, for wine. It has been 
tried in the garden, with perfect success ; and I 
cannot perceive, why it should not succeed, in the 
field, in favourable situations. We have season 
enough to mature the fruit. Indeed it ripens here, 
earlier than it does in some parts of France, where 
it is cultivated for wine. It may require protection 
against the frost of some of our winters ; and so it 
does, in Germany. But this protection is easily 
given, and, at little expense. — It is only laying the 
vine to the ground and turning on it a furrow. 
Under a particular management, it is more certain 
to give a crop, than any delicate fruit we have, and 
a more abundant crop. It is soon raised and soon 
produces fruit ; almost as soon as the currant. It 
becomes more and more prolifick, as it advances in 
age : and is as durable as the apple orchard. Cer- 
tain kinds of grape also keep as long, as the most of 
our winter apples. Then, when we consider how 
very valuable it is as a fruit for the market, for the 
common table, and for the manufacture of wines 
and brandies, surely, trial after trial ought to be 
made, before we despair of acquiring this addition 
to our fruit-plantations. If these trials be made, I 
have no doubt, you will see the flourishing vineyard, 
in many parts of the State, 

" Bent with the ponderous harvest of its vines" — 
and the wine press loaded 

" With the purple product of the autumnal year." 
You may have been ready to ask me, how agri- 
culture is to attain this pitch of prosperity, without 
constantly accruing profits ? How these profits are 
to accrue without a constant demand ? And is that 



44 

demand to be expected ? In answering these ques- 
tions I must take a wide circuit ; but its very inter- 
esting nature, especially to all who feel an interest 
in agriculture, I hope will justify it, and obtain your 
indulgence. 

The great interest of the United States is their 
agriculture. Every other interest dwindles into 
nothing, in the comparison ; every other is as a riv- 
ulet compared to the ocean. Their resource in 
their lands is literally of boundless extent, or if it 
may be said to admit of calculation, it certainly is 
beyond all distinct comprehension. The imagina- 
tion is baffled in its attempt to take it in, as a whole, 
and can do it only, by parts, and in succession, thro' 
a long series. If this resource should be develop- 
ed, as fully as it may be, it will make this nation, 
the most powerful in means, of any nation, now ex- 
isting on the earth, or that the sun ever beheld on the 
earth. There is nothing, which would not be within 
the compass of those means ; nothing, either for the 
good or glory of the country, which might not be 
effected with ease, and without being felt at all as 
a burthen by a single citizen — nothing, for external 
security, and impressing the world with fears of our 
force ; nothing for preventing wrongs, or in case 
of wrongs, for extorting reparation, by means of 
those fears ; nothing, for making foreign wars im- 
possible by making them hopeless ; nothing, for in- 
ternal prosperity, happiness, or splendour — no facili- 
ties for intercourse, by roads and canals; no secu- 
rities to that intercourse; no facilities for developing 
the faculties of the country in every pursuit; no 
facilities for diffusing knowledge in science, and 
skill in arts ; no facilities for developing and per- 
fecting all the powers of the human mind, and of 
filling and adorning the country with their united 
achievements. There would be no failure of 
means for effecting any, and all of these objects, 



45 

and many more ; nor would they press upon the 
country with the weight of a feather. 

How is this full development of this boundless 
resource to be efTected ? 

Simply, by means of an adequate market. An 
adequate market would produce the development 
with a rapidity, which would make it appear like a 
miracle. But where is this adequate market to be 
found ? At present, no where. Not in our own coun- 
try, for we already produce an immense surplus 
overourown wants. Not in foreign countries, for that 
surplus has glutted every foreign market in the 
world. The demand of foreign countries too, is 
growing less and less, from the increasing growth of 
their own internal supplies, and our surplus is daily 
becoming greater, from our increasingnumbers and 
cultivation. Besides, monopoly of the home mar- 
ket and the exclusion of foreigners, is the general 
policy of foreign nations, and is departed from on- 
ly in cases of necessity. If our export trade be 
now a losing trade, what will it be, when that sur- 
plus is much greater than it now is, and foreign de- 
mand much less, than it now is ? Add to all this, 
that a foreign market is no market at all, to the 
greatest portion of our produce. It is a market only 
to that portion, which is within such a distance of 
water carriage as will pay the land transportation, 
and leave enough to reimburse the cost of pro- 
duction, with some profit. Is then this adequate 
market to be despaired of.^ By no means. Tho' 
no where now to be found, it is in our power to 
create it. How ? By the introduction, and estab- 
lishment of manufactures of all kinds, and to eve- 
ry practicable extent. This would give that ade- 
quate market, that accessible market, to every dis- 
trict of the agriculture of our country. It would 
furnish the buyer and the means to buy, to all our 
produce ! Let us suppose this done, and then at- 
tend to its necessary effect. Let us suppose. 



46 

manufactures diffused all over the country, where- 
ever Nature has given the means of power, by 
water or coal, and established in every town 
and village, with such aids as machinery would 
give. Let us suppose, two millions of people oc- 
cupied in these various manufactures. Consider, 
how immense the consumption must be of two mil- 
lions of people, possessing the means of making 
payment. Consider again, that the raw material 
of many of the most important of these manu- 
factures comes from the land ; that the means of 
working every raw material are principally derived 
from it ; that these means are new products, to be 
added to the list of our productions. Consider a- 
gain, how many labourers, not employed in manu- 
factures, must be employed by them — labourers, 
who cease tobe producers, and become consumers, 
with means of making payment. Consider too, that 
vast body of middle-men, employed in effecting ex- 
changes, to be added to the great body of pro- 
fitable consumers. To this immense market, 
thus to be created, add the market we now have, 
both foreign and domestick. Can there be any 
doubt of its giving the fullest scope to all the 
energies, which agriculture could exert ? The 
effect would be seen every where. Scenes of cul- 
tivation of immeasureable extent would be open- 
ed all over our country and in every direction. 
Not confined to the banks of our rivers and the 
neighbourhood of our sea-ports, they would stretch 
over every plain, occupy every valley, and rise to 
the summit of every mountain. Instead of the 
howling wolf, and lurking savage, we should hear 
our flocks, bleating on ten thousand, thousand 
hills, and our herds lowing in the meads below. 

These manufactures, besides this direct effect 
upon agriculture, would have another, indirectly, 
fully as important, by means of the internal trade 
they would create ; a trade, of much more value 



47 

than any foreign trade can possibly be. First, its 
amount would be greater, almost beyond compari- 
son. The foreign commerce of England, great as 
it is, is to her internal commerce only as one to fif- 
teen. Then, the domestick trade is much more pro- 
fitable than the foreign. The profits all centre at 
home. They are not divided with the foreign 
country, as they must be, in the foreign trade. Be- 
sides, the exchanges are much more rapidly made. 
Consider a new trade created, fifteen times at 
least the amount of our foreign trade, and of more 
than fifteen times its value, and having a much more 
direct and beneficial influence on agriculture, in 
proportion to its value ; and a trade, in which cap^ 
ital may be employed by the merchant, with more 
certainty of accumulation, than he now employs it, 
in foreign adventures. Add now, the indirect to 
the direct effect of manufactures upon our agricul- 
ture. Can the description of that combined efTect, 
which has been given, be thought extravagant — a 
fancy-picture, which the future fact would not veri- 
fy ? Consider, that such has been precisely the 
combined effect of manufactures, and internal trade, 
upon the agriculture of England ; in spite too of 
the counteracting efTect of the enormous taxes, 
which now lie with an intolerable weight upon that 
interest. Take away the support of their manu- 
factures and internal trade, and her agriculture 
would be crushed, at once, by the weight of 
those taxes, and all England would become a mere 
hunting-ground. 

But the efTect of these manufactures would not 
stop here. Paradoxical as it may seem, they would 
augment our foreign trade and give it more pros- 
perity. 

So much of our foreign trade as consists in the 
importation of manufactures, would be lopped off^or 
materially diminished. But so far as our naviga- 
tion interest is concerned, the effect of this would 



48 

he inconsiderable. A few vessels are sufficient for 
all these importations. The seamen employed are 
few, the freight earned is small. As to the capital 
concerned, no doubt that is large. 

But this body of domestick manufactures would 
itself create an import trade of great impor- 
tance — imports of articles for their uses, requiring 
more shipping, employing more seamen, paying 
more freight, though probably investing less capital, 
than the present import trade, in manufactures. 
The great enlargement, however, would arise, from 
the increase of our export trade. Here would be 
new articles of export of great value and great 
effect, equalhng, and probably far exceeding, the 
whole value and eflfect of our present exports. 
The proceeds would return in one shape or anoth- 
er, and therefore the import trade itself would in- 
crease in proportion. 

Such would be the effect of manufactures upon 
the great interest of agriculture in the first place ; 
and then upon commerce, internal and external. 

The objections to them appear to me to weigh, 
as nothing, in the scale, against these great advan- 
tages. It is said, that the country must then pay 
for its manufactures, more than it now pays. No 
doubt, it must for a time. It is the price of 
the objects to be obtained. Now, what sort of com- 
parison is there between that price, and the value 
of these objects ? It is said, again, that there would 
then be a great falling off from the national reve- 
nue, from trade. This is by no means certain ; — the 
probability is, otherwise. But suppose it to be the 
fact. How easily would the deficiency be suppli- 
ed from the increased ability of the country ! Ho\r 
weak it would be to forego the means of this in- 
crease for the sake of paying, indirectly, what, af- 
ter all, we must pay ! To refuse infinite wealth, for 
the sake of a particular mode of paying a tax ! It 
maybe said also, that this plan is not agreeable to 



49 

the most approved theory of political economists. 
Be it so. 1 consider that theory, however true in 
the abstract, perfectly delusive as a practical plan, 
under the existing circumstances of the commer- 
cial world. It requires two previous conditions, 
which will not, or cannot take place. First, that 
all nations agree to adopt it. Then, that all na- 
tions stand on a level, as to capital, knowledge and 
skill. Starting together on this footing of equality, 
it would, doubtless, be best for all to leave indus- 
try, enterprize, and trade, to themselves, to individ- 
ual direction, without any interference on the part 
of government. But the long estabhshed systems 
of monopoly and exclusion, and their effect in the 
unequal accumulation of capital, knowledge, and 
skill, have begotten tlip ahsolntfi npopssitj of simi- 
lar systems. 

But, how are these manufactures to be acquired ? 
By adopting a national system of political econ- 
omy, sufficient to produce this result. It must 
afford so much encouragement, how much so- 
ever that may be, as will have the effect to 
introduce, to estabhsh, and extend them so as to 
be commensurate to all the wants of our whole 
country, and to all the foreign demand, that may 
exist for them in any part of the world. This is a 
practicable thing, and it would not be difficult to 
devise the system that would with certainty pro- 
duce this result. And by adopting, also, as subsi- 
diary thereto, such a national system of internal 
improvements, by roads and canals, as would give 
all the facilities to internal intercourse, of which 
the country is susceptible. Unfortunately, some 
constitutional scruples have been entertained on 
this head, which have operated as temporary ob- 
stacles to the adoption of such a system. It is unfor- 
tunate,! say, as this is one of the most vital concerns 
of this country. But I think, the obstacle must be 
temporary, and that the good citizens of the United 
7 



50 

States will not long suffer such an interest to be sac- 
rificed to a scruple, which really has no warrant in 
the constitution. The constitution commits our in- 
ternal commerce to the charge of Congress as ex- 
pressly, as it does, our external. The language is 
almost identical, as to both. Roads and canals are 
necessary, in the strictest sense of the word, ne- 
cessary to internal trade. Light-houses, are not so 
strictly necessary to our foreign commerce. But, 
at any rate, can there be any doubt of their being 
the proper means to the end proposed by the con- 
stitution ; to the end intended, and expected to 
be accomplished, under it ; to the end, which 
all our citizens have such a vital interest in 
seeing accomplished, namely, the regulation of 
our internal trade, in the most beneficial manner ? 
Besides, the system of internal improvements is full 
of good in other respects without any alloy of pos- 
sible evil, in any. It will give perfection to our 
means of defence, and what is of more conse- 
quence, perfection to our Union. This is the only 
vulnerable point of our country. That secured, 
as it would then be secured, there is nothing left, 
which humanly speaking, can arrest the advance of 
our national prosperity to a growth without exam- 
ple, and without end. 

I call upon you, then, ye farmers and planters, 
ye who hold your own destinies in your own hands, 
who have but to say, and it is done, to urge upon 
your rulers the adoption of these great national 
measures. Then shall your agriculture enjoy these 
unfailing and convenient markets. Then shall it 
have these commodious channels of transportation. 
Then shall riches, like a flood, flow from this 
source. Let them consider, that your interests are 
identified with those of the manufacturer, and that 
his success is essential to your own. Let them con- 
sider, that the merchant is necessary to the prosper- 
ity of both, and both to his prosperity ; that the 
prosperity of all three interests flows from one 



51 

common fountain ; and that nothing is more sense- 
less or more pernicious, than the conflicts of the dif- 
ferent partizans of these different interests, or more 
absurd than the jealousies, which produce them. 

In recommending agriculture, as a pursuit, I 
have chiefly dwelt on considerations of profit ; but 
I cannot close, without noticing another considera- 
tion, that may have its influence too. I allude to 
the refined pleasures attending the pursuit, to men 
of refinement. 

These pleasures are nearly allied to the pleas- 
ures of the fine arts. They are of a kindred nature, 
emotions of the same family. It is that gentle cur- 
rent of feeling, which makes a sense of being a 
sensual enjoyment; that happy feeling, which grate- 
fully exclaims, 

" Deus nobis ha3c otia fecit." 
It is this delicious sensation of existence, this wak- 
ing of the soul, the characteristick effect of all 
the fine arts, which places their votary in that 
happy state, equally distant from the ennui, that 
makes life a burden, and the anxieties of the pas- 
sions, which make life a torment. It is the kindred 
nature of rural pleasures, which gives to the fine 
arts their intense effect, when both are combined. 
The emotions then unite, and swell the delightful 
current. Both are increased, and both made more 
dehcious, from the union — perfect architecture is 
beautiful any where ; even in a crowded city. But 
what is its effect there, compared to its effect in the 
same beautiful building, on the banks of a river, in 
the midst of a picturesque plantation of trees, over- 
looking boundless scenes of rich cultivation, and 
enlivened by all the joyous tribes of animated na- 
ture ? It is the union of these kindred emotions, 
which renders the beautiful forms of architecture, 
the Palladian bridge, the Grecian temple, the soli- 
tary column, such wonderful embellishments to or- 
namented grounds. It is not the statues of Pomona 
and Flora in the work-shop of the master-statuary ; 
but it if5 Pomona and Flora, in the garden, amidst 



52 

their own fruits and flowers, that so powerfully af- 
fect us. 

The most enchanting musick is the song, when 
sung in concert with the song of nature, in con- 
cert with the low but transporting musick of the 
spheres. 

Here was the birth place of Poetry. Here the 
poet first kindled into life. Here his flame was 
first lighted up, and hence he still draws that en- 
thusiasm, which he imparts to his readers ; and no 
where, so powerfully, as in its native home. It was 
a warm, and even pious, imagination, though unin- 
structed, or ill instructed, placed amidst the ever- 
varying and affecting forms of Nature, and excited 
by her impulses, that peopled her scenes with in- 
visible beings, employed by her, as her agents, in 
regulating the elements and the seasons, for the 
distribution of good to the good, and of evil to the 
bad. Accordingly, hymns to the gods were the 
first poetry. It is still, amidst those ever-varying 
and affecting forms of Nature, so endless in diver- 
sity, so interesting in each particular, amidst the 
originals of his own pictures, that the poet be- 
comes the most delightful companion. 

One of the fine arts, and the only one of modern 
invention, is grafted on these rural pleasures, to 
which it adds its own, and consummates their joint 
effect. I allude to the art of composing landscape 
pictures, by the disposition of grounds, of waters, 
and woods, upon the principles of beauty, of grand- 
eur, and perspective. The effect is far beyond 
what it is in the power of the pencil to produce. 
It has all her illusions, and superadded to the 
charms of living and animated nature. These 
pictures are sketched by the hand of art, but they 
are finished by the hand of Nature, and finished in 
her own inimitable way. And when finished, 



^3 

"His demum exactis, perfecto munerc Divoe 
Devenere locos loetos, et amoena vireta 
Fortunatorum nemurum, sedesque beatas." 

" That earth now- 
Seemed like to heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, 
Or wander, with delight, and love to haunt 
Her sacred shades." 

These scenes, on a grand scale, are attainments on- 
ly for the opulent. But for them, no expenditure 
of money for the gratification of taste, is to be com- 
pared with this object. How infinitely superiour 
one such establishment would be to all our places 
of fashionable resort, in the heats of summer : 

'* Hie inter flumina nota, 
Etfontessacros, frigus captare opacum." 

But the same thing on a smaller scale, 

" A happy rural seat of various view" 

Is within the reach of every ordinary fortune. 
And who would grudge a portion of that, for such a 
source of elegant pleasures ? 

It fortunately happens too in this pursuit, that 
these pleasures are promoted, by what promotes 
the profits of the farm. The best cultivated farm 
is the most beautiful, as well as the most profitable. 
This is the farm, we visit for pleasure ; to see the 
luxuriant crops, the fields, rising high, with waving 
grain, the meadows studded thick with hay-cocks 
of new mown hay, the fruit trees, bending beneath 
their loads of ripening fruit. But think, how much 
greater the pleasure his harvests must give the 
owner, when the 

" Rural monarch of the field descries, 
With silent glee, the heaps around him rise." 

Bad husbandry is as oflensive to the taste, as it is 
injurious to the interest of the husbandman. Even 
the ornate farm, as the French call it, is more pro- 
fitable, for being ornate. That form of plantation, 
by which it becomes ornate, is the best form for 



54 

fertility. The farm is made as much more produc- 
tive, as it is made more beautiful. The very orna- 
mentc re the most useful improvements. 

As to stock, the most valuable animals are al- 
most uniformly found to be the most beautiful; and 
as to the fruit tree, the very art, by which it is made 
the most prolifick, is the art, by which it is made 
the most beautiful, in form and appearance. 

Such are some of the sources of the pleasures, 
(many yet have not been mentioned, but let these 
suffice) attending this pursuit. 

Let me then entreat you, ye men of wealth, and 
refinement, to devote some portion at least of that 
wealth to this pursuit ! You will find it the living 
source of a thousand delights, and added to all 
others, tliat greatest of all delights, the delight of 
doing good to your country. 



"w-^ 743 800 3 



5S 

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